Sometimes All You Need
by YLJedi
Summary: Rowdy's in a strange mood, and the boss and the others can't seem to snap him out of it.
1. Chapter 1

At camp, breakfast was in full force. The men milled about, enjoying their last few moments of relaxation before the day officially began. Wishbone, whose day had already officially started, dutifully made his rounds with his pot of steaming and bitter coffee. Rowdy, who had been staring off into space, awoke from his reverie just in time to protect his mug from Wish's refilling trigger finger.

"No more for me, Wish."

"Why, you ain't hardly touched your first cup."

"No, I haven't," Rowdy tiredly agreed to the obvious.

"And you haven't had a bite of your breakfast."

"No I haven't, is that alright with you, Wish?"

"Now look, if you don't like my cooking," Wish began in his aggravated and bristly voice, "you just don't get yourself a plate next time."

"No, it's not that, you're cooking's fine," Rowdy responded quickly but distractedly, eager to get the grizzled old cook off his back.

"You're complimenting me. What's the matter?"

"Look nothing's the matter, I'm just not hungry is all, now leave me alone, will ya Wishbone?" Rowdy threw down his plate in frustration and stormed over to the remuda where he angrily, and thus very roughly, saddled his horse.

Pete, who had observed the whole exchange walked over to Wish, automatically holding his mug out to be refilled.

"You know what's got him so bent out of shape?" Wish asked, automatically filling the cup even as he watched Rowdy mount up and gallop away.

"No idea, but with that knucklehead, does it have to _be anything_ to get him riled?" Wish snorted agreement to Pete's comment, then trudged off to fill up the other's mugs with his coffee.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and the herd was moving along at a speedy pace, well, speedy for cattle at any rate. Favor reined up, and surveyed the work with his piercing gaze. Satisfied, he was about to ride back into the midst of the drive when he spotted Pete loping back from his all-day scouting trip to ascertain the terrain up ahead. He met Pete halfway and waited patiently for his scout's report. 

"River up ahead, looks pretty shallow, but it's fast. Could give us trouble, but it's still a good couple of days away. There's a town a couple of miles east of us, Northfork. Nothing fancy—"

"—but it'll do. Wishbone's been needing a few supplies. Rowdy and I'll go into town tomorrow."

"Say," Pete shifted in his stirrups, one hand resting one hand on the back of his saddle, "what's been bothering Rowdy? I've never seen him this sore."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean today. He was snapping at Wish when the man offered him coffee, and before that he wasn't talking to anybody, he just sat there and stared into space."

"Rowdy, not talking? We better do something right away."

"I'm serious, boss," Pete replied.

"Aww, it's probably just trail fever," Favor shrugged it off. "We've almost been on the drive for a whole month. It's his first time, he'll get over it. He might even get over it when we go to town tomorrow."

* * *

Late that evening, Pete slouched against the wagon wheel, finishing up the last of his stew, and studying Rowdy again. The kid sat near the fire, nursing his coffee and staring into the flames. But Pete could tell his mind was somewhere else, and filled with unpleasant thoughts, as the kid's tight jaw and his peculiarly tense slouch proved. Pete studied him for a little while longer, then he sighed to himself, and headed over to the young man. 

"Rowdy, you feeling all right?"

Rowdy straightened from his slouch when he heard his name. "What?" he asked groggily while he refocused his eyes back into the present.

"You feeling all right?" Pete repeated.

"Oh, yeah," Yates shook the question off and turned back to the fire.

But Pete wouldn't let it go at that. "Because you're sitting there," he continued, "sipping the worst coffee I've ever had without blinking an eye, and you're not touching the best stew I think Wish has whipped up since the start of this drive."

At Nolan's words, Rowdy glanced down at his plate; sure enough (and surprisingly enough in Rowdy's eyes), the stew had hardy been touched. "Guess I'm not really hungry."

"You're sure you're okay?" Pete questioned again, still not liking the answers he was getting.

"Look I said I was okay so drop it!" the youth snapped.

"Okay, okay," Pete held his hands up in surrender. "Don't jump all over me, I'll drop it."

Rowdy sighed, ashamed of his harsh words toward someone who was just concerned for his well-being. "I'm sorry, Pete, I don't know what's got into me."

"You sure haven't been yourself lately."

"Yeah, I just…" Rowdy trailed off.

"You itching to see a town?"

"No, it's not that," Rowdy glanced up at Pete, indecision in his eyes. "Pete, do ya-do you think I'm doing a good job, as a drover, and ramrod and such?"

"Why sure I think you're doing a good job," Pete replied sincerely, and then in an effort to rile Rowdy back into his normal mood he added, grinning, "that is for a wet-eared greenhorn who still can't tell one end of a cow from another."

Rowdy forced a little smile at the friendly jibe, but it died almost as soon as it crossed his lips. "Yeah…" he muttered. He glanced at his plate, then sighed. "Give this to Mushy, will ya Pete? I'm not that hungry." With that Rowdy stood up and walked out of the camp, heading toward a little grove of trees near where the cattle were bedded down for the night.

Pete stood staring after him, a puzzled frown across his face. He delivered the almost-full plate to Mushy, where it quickly became a completely empty and clean one. Pete then walked over to where Favor was eating.

"Boss, I don't think it is just trail fever."

"What?" Favor didn't follow his scout's out of the blue statement.

"Rowdy. He's still acting strange, not talking, wouldn't touch his plate. I asked him if he was itching for a town, he said no. Then he asked me if I thought he was doing a good job. I joked with him, but he didn't react one way or another."

Favor stood up, resignedly but resolutely taking over a situation that he knew would just be trail fever. "I'll talk to him," he reassured Pete.

He found Rowdy gazing at the cattle, his right arm slung over the branch of a tree, his chin resting against his arm. He glanced up as Favor sidled up alongside.

"Nice night out," the boss commented innocently, a habit he obtained from having to continuously sneak slowly and casually up to a wild steer just to get close enough to throw a rope on him.

The ramrod eyed him knowingly, but he went along with his boss's roundabout way. "The cattle are sure restful," he agreed. "It oughta be real easy on the night hawkers."

"Yeah, real easy." Favor paused. "You want to talk?"

Rowdy sighed. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what's bugging me."

"I'm going in to town tomorrow, you want to ride along?"

Rowdy thought about it. "No thanks, Mr. Favor. If I'm going to be a good ramrod for you, I need to show the others that I'm willing to do my share of the work, even when I could've gotten out of it."

Favor would have smiled at the boy's persistence and drive to earn the respect of the men, but smiles were a rare thing with the boss, and besides, it was dark out: why waste one when nobody would see it? So instead he remained stone-faced and handed out some advice for the kid to chew on.

"That's all well and good, but just remember that you _are_ my ramrod, and that you're learning. The men won't mind if you go with me to scout the terrain or the towns or anywhere else where I think you might gain more experience. That will make you a good ramrod too. So..." He let the question hang.

Rowdy thought for a moment, but then he sighed. "Thanks, Mr. Favor, but there's nothing in a town that can help me with this. I don't know what _will_ help, or even what _this_ is," Rowdy muttered with a quiet laugh, "but I'm pretty sure picking up supplies won't help."

* * *

--Hey guys, this is my first Rawhide fic. Please let me know what you think, and I'll try to update quickly. Thanks for reading! 


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Favor rode into town, leaving Rowdy in charge. The herd moved along at its usual, brisk pace. By the time for noon camp, the drive had covered almost three miles.

Favor loped in to the remuda, but he wasn't alone; a stranger rode right behind him. Mr. Favor and the stranger dismounted and headed over to the chuck wagon. Pete, surprised, hustled over to them.

"Hey boss, how was town?" Pete cheerfully inquired as he studied the new man.

"Just fine," Favor bit into a biscuit. "Mushy! Get the supplies off my horse." When Mushy complied, he turned back to Nolan. "Oh, Pete, this is Dan Bailey. He says he can help us find a safe crossing for the herd." After Pete and Bailey had exchanged greetings, Favor spoke to the new hire. "Pete's my scout. Once you finish your meal, my ramrod will find you a place. You'll work there until we hit the river."

"Okay, Mr. Favor," the man easily agreed, then turned to fill his plate. Pete eyed him distrustfully; he wasn't too keen on someone encroaching on his job. He followed as Favor ambled away.

"You sure he knows this river?"

"He says he does. Says he's been all over this part of the country. Rode the Sedalia trail a couple years ago. And he needs the money, and we need to get across the river."

"Yeah boss, but—"

"—And even if he doesn't know a crossing, every extra hand will help us."

"Well, that's true I guess." Pete accepted Favor's explanation, but only because it made sense.

Favor switched topics. "How did it go this morning? Rowdy do all right?"

"He did his job fine, and gave the right orders, but—"

"—But you're still worried about him," Favor finished.

"Yep," Pete stated honestly. "He's still in a strange mood, boss."

At that time, Rowdy rode into the remuda, dismounted and, seeing Mr. Favor was back, headed over.

"Hey boss, how was town?" he asked quietly.

"Fine. Got the supplies we've been needing, so maybe Wish can cook a decent biscuit for once."

Pete grinned. "I doubt it, but we can all hope." Rowdy didn't even crack a smile.

Favor jerked his head back to the chuck wagon. "Picked up a new man, claims to know the river we'll be hitting in a few days. He says he's been up a trail once before, so see where you want to put him until we hit the river."

"Sure boss," Rowdy mumbled as he gazed at the new man, who was chatting amiably with Mushy. The man was tall and well-built with dark brown hair escaping out from an old, dirty brown, crumpled hat. The relaxed posture was familiar, one hand gesturing about, and the other resting easily and unassumingly on top of his gun, thumb looped into the belt.

"What did you say his name was?" he asked carefully.

"Bailey. Dan Bailey."

"Bailey," Rowdy muttered quietly. He stood silent for a second, then he frowned and tramped over until he was only a couple of feet behind the new man, feet spread wide, and his hands resting on his belt. When he spoke, he projected his voice over the whole camp. "Mr. Favor, don't tell me that you hired this no-good, dirty rotten liar to guide us across the river?!!"

Dan Bailey whirled around at the loud voice, his hand still on top of his gun, only no longer resting unassumingly. But when he saw who his accuser was, his posture slowly and methodically relaxed back into one of supreme confidence. "Oh, it's you kid, I thought it might be someone to _actually_ worry about." The drovers eyed each other at this insult.

Bailey glanced over at his new boss. "Mr. Favor, you don't mean that I'm going to have to work with this low-down, yellow-bellied tinhorn—"

"Work with him _and_ take orders from him," Favor interrupted, not sure exactly what this was, but instantly ready to guard against the trouble that was brewing. "He's my ramrod and—"

"Rowdy Yates, you're a ramrod?!"

"Yeah," Rowdy smiled evilly. "And I decide where you ride tomorrow."

"Oh-ho. I'm scared now," the stranger grinned back.

Rowdy quickly closed the distance between them, grabbed the other man's hand and slapped him heartily on the shoulder. "How you been Dan?"

"All right. Been drifting from town to town mostly."

"Why'd you sign up for a cattle drive?"

"Money," Dan replied honestly. "Lost most of mine a couple towns back and finally ran out and got stuck in that hole in the wall. Mr. Favor agreed to let me hire on for a little while to gather enough for stage fare, in return for helping y'all cross the river."

"Speaking of Mr. Favor," Favor broke in, and slowly and articulately (which was always dangerous) continued, "would you two mind explaining to me what just happened here?"

The two men grinned. Rowdy explained. "Mr. Favor, Dan here is a childhood buddy. We grew up together, fought in the war together-"

"and I joined him on a pleasant jaunt up to Yankee prison."

"Pleasant jaunt? Dan you're crazy," Rowdy playfully shoved the older man as he grabbed his own plate of food, and then the two of them walked away, talking with and over each other, not noticing the other men in the drive staring after them.

* * *

Noon camp broke up a little while later, with Mr. Favor having to physically jar the two men out of their conversation. Rowdy reluctantly gave Dan the position of drag, since that was the typical new man's position, and Dan didn't complain. 

But, as Favor observed, Dan didn't have much to complain about anyway. Rowdy hadn't left his side since the drive started up again, they didn't pay any attention to the cattle, and Bailey didn't even have to deal with the dust of the drag position: he and Rowdy kept drifting sideways and closer to flank, the dust apparently not a very welcome addition to their non-stop conversation.

"Whoaa," Favor gently crooned to his horse as he spotted Pete spurring up to him.

"What's the matter?" he asked, though he was pretty sure what it was.

"It's Rowdy and that friend of his!" Pete complained, "they're not working at all, just jabbering away at each other." He was going to continue venting his frustration, but Favor interrupted.

"I seem to recall just yesterday you were complaining to me that Rowdy wasn't talking enough," the boss chided.

"Well it was different then," Pete defended.

"Oh?"

"Yes it was. Rowdy might not have been himself, but at least he was getting his work done. Now he's not working, and the new guy's not doing his job—"

"—And _we're_ not doing our job when we just sit here talking about them, either, are we?" Favor lightly provoked his scout.

Pete scowled at the ribbing. "Well, if you're not going to do anything about it, I certainly am." He made to gallop off, but Favor took hold of his arm.

"Aww, let 'em go Pete."

"But Mr. Favor," the scout persisted.

"Just this once," he ordered. "But don't worry," he smiled, letting go of his pretend annoyance at Nolan and revealing his truly devilish mind, "they'll both pay for it tomorrow."

Pete shook his head, but surrendered reluctantly to the promise of payback. "Whatever you say, boss. But honestly, it's like Rowdy's never had a friend before." Pete rode off, but his offhand comment brought Favor up short.

Was that Rowdy's problem? He didn't have any friends? Well, that was nonsense, he had plenty of friends in this outfit, pretty much every man liked every other man (Favor knew he was lucky with the drovers he had gotten for this drive).

But then again, the trail boss mused, everybody in this camp was a new friend for Rowdy. Not one man in this outfit had Yates known before. Favor had known Pete in the war, Quince and Scarlet—when had they ever been anything other than Quince and Scarlet?—and many other hands had signed up with a friend, but Rowdy had known no one until he the first day of the drive. And even if there were others who signed on alone like Rowdy, they at least had the experience of a trail drive. Rowdy had none. Favor shook his head at the irony; his ramrod was the only greenhorn in this outfit.

* * *

At camp that evening, the men all crowded around Rowdy and Dan, as each regaled their audience with tales of the other's exploits during their childhood and the war. 

"One time," Dan began with a twinkle in his eye, "as we were being hauled to the prison camp in Arizona, we were let out for a bit before we were herded onto the next cattle car," he spit those words out, "there were some Yankee nurses who were taking care of the wounded. Well, we hadn't had any real chow in a _long_ time, and the nurses kept bringing plates of steaming food for our guards and, big surprise, nothing for us. But then we see this beautiful young girl carrying a huge plate of apple pie, and we just couldn't take it any longer. So we decided Rowdy should try, since he's pretty handy with the ladies." He said the last part as if he were giving Rowdy a nice little and untrue compliment, but the guffaws of agreement from the drovers told Bailey they knew the hard-core truth of the statement.

"So," Dan picked up the story again, "he walks up to this girl, and very politely says howdy to her. And that girl wrinkles up her nose and exclaims, 'Why is it that all you Johnny Rebs smell so _disgusting_?'"

"Naw, the word she used was 'vile,' I think she wanted to impress us with her fancy-soundin' phrases," Rowdy corrected as he sipped his coffee.

"Well anyway," Dan continued, "Rowdy gives her that aw-shucks smile of his," Rowdy glared at him, the others nodded, "and then he says, 'Well, ma'am, I suppose that's 'cause Yank women are looking after us. I'm sure with your lovely help we'll smell just as…revolting,' (he threw his own big word back in her face), 'as your own born and bred blue bellies.'"

Murmurs of approval followed this story. "That's telling her Rowdy," Jim Quince congratulated.

"Yeah," Pete chimed in, "but if you had kept your mouth shut you might have gotten the apple pie."

"Oh, he still got the pie," Dan added, grinning from ear to ear.

"He didn't?" Scarlet asked incredulously.

"He did. He smiled some more, and after a bit that girl handed him the pie like he was Abe Lincoln himself, and then Rowdy got her to go and steal from some of the guards. And then every time after that, whenever we ran into a girl, we sent Rowdy and he got us some meals. It got so good for us and so bad for our guards that the Yanks took to locking him up and out of sight whenever anything female came around."


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Rowdy and Dan had almost three miles between them as Rowdy was assigned point and Dan continued his position of drag. That morning, Rowdy had been abruptly woken up before the crack of dawn to help Mushy fix breakfast, because Wish for some reason wasn't feeling well. And by some odd coincidence, another drover had taken Rowdy's favorite horse for the day, leaving Yates a mount just a shade too bronco to be an easy ride. The colt balked at every little thing, almost unseating Rowdy when a steer suddenly got too close for his particular tastes. Yates hung on, but he was halfway out of the saddle before the colt finally calmed down enough for him to regain control.

And so at noon camp, Rowdy walked in just a tad stiff from the hard riding. As he headed over to eat next to Dan, Pete, standing alongside Mr. Favor, couldn't resist a barb at the kid.

"What's the matter, Rowdy? Not know how to ride a horse yet? See, it's very simple, you try to stay on top and when the horse moves, you're supposed to move with it." Bailey grinned at Nolan's words, but Rowdy just scowled.

"Funny, Pete, funny. You want to tell me why you felt you just had to take my horse today?"

"Simple. Quince took mine." Pete answered as Mushy refilled his cup.

"And why did he take yours?" Rowdy continued his grilling.

"You'll have to ask him that."

"Quince?"

Jim walked over. "Yeah, Rowdy?"

"Why'd you take Pete's horse?"

"'Cause Joe here took mine." Joe Scarlet had followed Quince over. Rowdy turned his questioning gaze to him.

"Well, Mr. Favor took mine. Said none of us should have a favorite horse, that we needed to ride all the horses equally."

"Oh, well," Rowdy started backing up at the mention of orders from the boss, when Mushy, finished refilling, decided to enter the conversation and help Joe finish his explanation.

"Yeah and then Mr. Favor said that Mr. Rowdy needed to be punished for talking too much yesterday." Pete choked on his coffee.

"Bailey, you ready to show us that crossing?" Favor called as he strode away from the group, studiously ignoring Rowdy's glare.

"Yes, sir." Dan wolfed down the rest of his meal, and quickly headed over to the remuda.

"Mr. Favor?" Rowdy followed Mr. Favor to the chuck wagon.

"You stay with the herd. Pete and I'll look at the river." He threw his dirty plate into the wash pan. He finally had to look up when Rowdy's eyes continued to drill into him. He shrugged.

"It was Pete's idea."

But Pete was already over at the remuda and swinging into the saddle when Rowdy turned around. He walked his horse (or really, Quince's horse) slowly past the still-glaring Yates. "Remember, Rowdy, when the horse moves, you move with him." Then the three men lit out.

…

They reached the river, and Dan led them several miles farther west before he pointed out the shallowest part of the river. The rains had made the river higher and faster than normal, he explained, with the water halfway up the horses' legs, which with this current, meant trouble for the cattle.

"It'll be rough, but it's the best crossing for miles around," Dan yelled back behind him as he led the trail drovers through the river.

Favor studied the water carefully after they made it across to the other side. The riverbed was shallower here, but there was a significant drop-off on the right; if any cow slipped by the drovers it was a cinch to be swept away by the swift current. "Pete?"

"Like he said, it's gonna be rough, but I think we can do it. We'll just have to string them out a little more than normal. It'll cost us time, but it's better than losing the beeves."

"Yep," Favor mused. "We'll run them hard to the river, and let them drink their fill, then maybe we'll have better control when we cross them over." The boss had made up his mind. "All right, let's get back to the herd."

They rode across the river. The three gently loped for a bit, then slowed to a walk to rest their mounts, for they had ridden hard and far this afternoon. Bailey had been silent for a while, until finally Pete asked him what he was thinking about.

"I still can't believe Rowdy's a ramrod!" he exclaimed, and the other two glanced at each other in amusement.

"Sometimes we can't believe it either," Pete grinned.

"He's still a little green, but he is learning. Doing pretty good, too," Favor told Dan truthfully. He was proud of how far Yates had come (though he still had a _very_ long way to go) and he felt an obligation to his ramrod to build him up to one of his old friends.

"Speaking of Rowdy," Pete broke in, "how much of that story was true last night?"

Bailey smiled. "Every word of it."

"Oh, come on," Pete doubted.

"Well, Rowdy _can_ turn a lot of girls' heads," Favor broke in. And there was no argument for that.

Bailey nodded. "Yeah, no matter if they're Reb or Yank, they can all tell Rowdy's a nice guy." Favor nodded.

"The trouble is, he thinks they're all nice girls," Dan continued, turning serious. "And some'll take him for all he's worth because of it."

"Yep," Favor muttered, struck at how this man knew so much about his ramrod. "You two must have been quite a pair growing up."

Dan paused for a second, but then shook his head. "No, not really. See, I'm several years older than him. He and my younger brother Charlie, they were good friends, rarely left each other's sight. And then they started tagging along after me. Got real annoying, real fast. But when we all joined up together, Charlie kind of forced us to become friends. Said if it was going to be a long war, we might as well all be friends through it. After that, the three of us became almost inseparable."

"Sounds like a smart man," commented Favor.

"Where's Charlie now?" Pete asked.

"He was killed in the war." Dan looked down for a moment, but then he made an effort to lighten the mood. "But the things Charlie and Rowdy did when they were kids! I remember one time…"

…

That night, Favor thoughtfully assigned them the same night hawk shift, after Rowdy helped clean all the dishes with Mushy (and then Favor finally decided to call Rowdy's punishment over). The two rode dutifully around the herd a couple of times, but the cattle were real restful, and the night was calm and clear, so after a while they just leaned back in their saddles and talked.

"Boy, this is some pretty country," Dan exclaimed, surveying the rugged landscape.

"Wild and rough, but it is pretty," Rowdy agreed.

"I wish Charlie were here, he would have loved to cowboy across the river coming up."

"He always wanted to be a cowboy. And boy did he love danger and excitement," Rowdy laughed as old memories surfaced.

"It's incredible isn't it? It seems only yesterday you and Charlie were tumbling out of the hay loft and roping each other for practice and now you're roping cattle for real."

"Yeah, time did go fast, didn't it?" They lapsed into easy silence for a little bit.

"How's your ma?" Dan asked.

"Fine," Rowdy shrugged.

"On the way back this afternoon I was swapping stories with Mr. Favor and the scout Nolan, and somewhere along the way they mentioned that your father was dead."

Rowdy ducked away as he felt Bailey's eyes on him. "Yeah, I told the fellows that."

"Why?"

Uncomfortable, he shrugged and kept his eyes averted. "Easier than the truth I guess." He waited for the other's reprimand, but Dan didn't say anything.

After a long moment, Rowdy switched topics. "When you get enough money scraped together, where you going to go?"

Dan smiled ruefully. "Don't know. However far I can go, I guess. I bet I'll be a drifter all my life, can't stand being tied down in one place for too long."

"Well, why don't you stay on the drive? Out on the trail, you're not tied down to one place; it's just like drifting except you get paid for it."

"Yeah, I know, but the work's not for me. The first time I was on the Sedalia, I swore I'd never ride it again. But guess where I am?"

"Well, since you've _already_ broken your promise, why don't you just break it all the way and stay on for the end?" Rowdy suggested good-humoredly.

"No, Ramrod Yates, I won't. Just across the river and then the next town with a stage and I'm gone."

"So, you're just going to _wander around_ for the rest of your life?" he asked in mock disapproval.

"You just going to cowboy for the rest of your life?" Bailey retorted.

"Okay, okay, I give up," Rowdy conceded to his friend. A moment later, he muttered, "but you _could_ just wander around with the drive."

* * *

Hey, sorry it took me so long to get it up. Hopefully, if all goes well, the next chapter should be up around...Monday or Tuesday. Thanks for reading! Please review! Have a great day! 


	4. Chapter 4

The herd reached the river. Favor relayed his orders to have the herd strung out, and then they started to move the cattle into the river. The cattle bawled their objections, but the drovers relentlessly pushed them on. All the men did well, and Favor was pleased at most of the orders Rowdy gave as the herd was driven into the swift current. There was however one big decision Favor had to shake his head at. Rowdy ordered a drover back to help push the herd, which was starting to shy away from the water's edge. There was a need for a man: he just took a man away from the wrong position, that's all. That man was needed to shoo the cattle away from the sharp drop-off that the current was pushing the cattle toward. Just a rookie's mistake. But Favor berated him for it as hard as anything to get the lesson learned. Rowdy took it in stride like he always did, but as Favor left, Pete saw a flicker of the uncertainty that had resided there just days ago pass through his eyes. He went back to his work striving to do better, but there were fewer orders given that Pete could see, and the ones that were given, though the right ones, had a second's hesitation before being issued, and that didn't bode well.

The river was crossed successfully, and all the men were proud of the hard day's work. Favor was proud of his men, but of course, they still had a couple hours of daylight left, so they went right back to work, pushing the cattle as many extra miles as they could get out of them. Pete unobtrusively studied Rowdy during the last few hours, but Rowdy appeared to be his normal self again. Maybe Pete was just being paranoid, but the scout didn't want to go through another week of Rowdy's strange moods; it hurt the drive. Okay, maybe it didn't really hurt the drive, since Rowdy had done all his work fine before when he was feeling down, but, and Pete was loathe to admit it, he had kind of missed having the normal Rowdy around. He guessed he kinda liked the irascible, stubborn, crazy and reckless kid, but only the Lord knew why.

"Hey, Rowdy, wait up!" Dan yelled as the drive finally stopped, and all were heading for the night's camp. Rowdy reined up obediently, but when Dan got close, he tore off. Dan instantly spurred his mount, and the two raced their way to the remuda, narrowly missing the dismounted drovers, who leapt out of the way of the speedsters.

Pete watched them. When Dan had shown up, he had gotten Rowdy back into his old mood, but already there was evidence of the strange mood still lurking in the shadows, waiting to lash out again. And Bailey was leaving soon. What was going to happen then? Pete frowned as he brooded over the situation. But then an idea began to form, and Pete nodded to himself as he walked over for some grub. Sometimes all you need…yep. That was it, Pete knew.

…

Over the next few days, the herd made its steady, lumbering process to the railheads in Sedalia. The drive was going along quite uneventfully, everyone doing their job with hard work and without complaint. The only unusual thing was that every now and then during the day, Pete would drop back to drag and spend a little time with Bailey. The trips seemed to be casual, just for a little conversation, and Pete quickly left for his own position, but something about it made Favor frown. He didn't know if it was trouble he was sensing, but he was certain these "casual visits" were anything but.

One day, after Pete had finished another casual visit, and was returning to his assigned position, Favor loped over to have his own "visit" with Nolan.

"How's it going over here?"

Pete glanced up as the boss sidled alongside. "Oh, really good."

"Been working hard?" The sarcastic, questioning tone told Pete that the Boss was fishing.

"Actually, I've been back in drag, checking on how the new man's doing."

"You still worried about him?"

Pete shook his head. "No, Mr. Favor, no. He showed us a good crossing, and he's doing his job and not complaining about being in drag. I'm not worried about him. I just wanted to make sure he was comfortable in that position."

Nolan had answered his question, and Favor quickly rode off, but a nagging suspicion told him that Pete had just weaseled his way out of telling the whole truth.

…

All too soon for Rowdy, Dan Bailey had enough wages to go a long ways by stage, and he was heading out. He knew that ever since Dan was a kid, he had wanted to see the world, but Rowdy couldn't help wishing that Dan would sign on for the rest of the drive. Besides a stage wouldn't take him to see the world, just to a couple more same-old same-old hole in the walls. But Bailey wanted to go, and so on the last morning of the drive, Dan collected his pay and started for the nearby town. The boss allowed Rowdy to accompany him; Pete had insisted it would be a good idea. So the two of them rode away.

"You sure you don't want to stay?" Rowdy asked again as the ride wore on.

Bailey laughed. "I'm sure." At Rowdy's scowl of disapproval, he elaborated. "Look kid, it's just not a job I like. I haven't found one yet that I can stand for more than a few days." Before Rowdy could say anything about him staying on the Sedalia drive a couple years ago, he defended, "That's because I needed the money, and I had _nowhere_ else to go."

"Man, you really make pushing cattle sound awful."

"Well, I shouldn't," Dan apologized. "It's a good job, and a hard job, just one that doesn't happen to suit my tastes. But I'm glad for you, kid. I'm glad you found a job you like. A ramrod, that's really something."

"It's really something all right," Rowdy shook his head, "but I don't know if I'm doing that great."

"Oh sure you are."

"No, I keep on making dumb mistakes."

"Aww, you're just learning. You can't be perfect."

"But I'm supposed to know better by now." He sighed. "I don't think I'll ever get the hang of it. I can't believe the men have put up with such a baby-faced runt like me ordering them about for so long."

"Rowdy, they know you're more than that."

When Rowdy hadn't made a move like he'd heard, Bailey decided to solidify his statements. "I've heard the men talk. They know you're green, and mistakes will happen. But they can also see that you're learning and you're trying and that you're loyal to this outfit. It's your honest hard work that makes those men listen to you."

"Yeah, but I don't know. A ramrod's supposed to order the men about and make the decisions when the boss is gone, but every man there knows twice as much about the cattle business as I do."

"Something you'll never let the others know, right?" Bailey added knowingly, sparking off an embarrassed, but agreeing grin from his friend.

"Right."

…

They had reached the town. Rowdy hadn't said anything for a while, but Dan could tell the talk had done him good. Nolan had had a good idea, Bailey decided. The kid had needed a good talking to, and he was the only person who could really make an impact, him being an old and trusted friend, as the scout had put it. But Rowdy was more than that, he was like another kid brother to him, and Dan wanted to do something more than just offer a couple of nice words.

When they reached the general store, Bailey dismounted and looped his reins around the hitching post, and then leisurely strolled under the protective shade of the building's porch roof. Rowdy slid down from his horse, but he stood holding his reins as he looked questioningly at his friend.

"Hey, shouldn't we be selling your horse? The stage is due in pretty soon," he commented, looking up at the high sun.

Bailey shook his head. "Naw, everybody's probably got a horse in this town. They wouldn't be interested in buying one like this."

"You kidding? She's a great piece of horseflesh, but of course not as great as you," Rowdy corrected as his own horse nickered as if in protest. He scratched his mount's ears in apology.

"You take her, then," Dan suggested.

"What? Oh no." But the kid's eyes had lit up for a second, Dan saw.

"Come on, Rowdy. I'm serious, take her."

"I don't have enough money for her. Besides, I've already got me a horse."

"But what happens when yours goes lame, or tires out? You gonna just keep riding whatever bronc you can get ahold of?" Rowdy glared at that pointed comment.

"And besides, a _Ramrod_ should have two horses."

Rowdy laughed. "You make ramrod sound like being the governor of Texas. But still, I just can't take your horse."

"Who says I'm just giving her to you? You oughtta know me better than that. You're gonna keep and take care of her for me, and whenever I come across you again, I'm taking her back from you." That stipulation would make him feel he could take it, Dan knew. "Fair enough? Oh, and I'm keeping my saddle."

"You're so kind."

"Then it's a deal?"

He hesitated for a second. "It's a deal. Thanks Dan," Rowdy gushed as he patted the beautiful bay affectionately. Dan smiled at the excitement in his friend's eyes. Bailey had been away from friends and family for so long, traveling around, that it made him happy just doing something nice for someone else for once. And the way the kid's eyes lit up, Dan remembered that gleam in both Rowdy's and Charlie's eyes whenever Dan would allow them to ride on his first horse back on the farm. Bailey shook his head and the thought off before any dust could get into his eyes and make them water.

"Well, you better head on back or Mr. Favor's liable to get a little ornery at you."

"Yeah, I better."

"And when I get back," he warned, "I better hear that you're the best darn ramrod there is this side of the Pecos."

"I'll sure try. It was good seeing you, Dan. You take care of yourself." They shook hands.

"You too. You've done all right for yourself, Rowdy. You've done all right."

…

At camp, that afternoon, the drovers were milling about, enjoying their break. Pete and Favor stayed around the chuckwagon with Wish and Mushy. They chatted away quietly, but they all looked up as Rowdy rode into the remuda, leading the beautiful bay that belonged to his friend. Yates dismounted, and quickly grabbed a plate from Wish.

"That's Bailey's horse isn't it?" Favor asked.

"Yeah, he wants me to keep it until he finds his way back around these parts. He's a nice guy, isn't he Mr. Favor?" He smiled, then after getting his plate, he made a dash for the coffeepot.

"Rowdy's looking a lot better," Wish commented as the youth wandered away to join the other drovers.

"Yeah, but with Bailey gone, will it last?" Mr. Favor asked seriously.

"I think it will. I think Rowdy's gotten over what was bugging him," Pete said.

"Sometimes all you need is a friend," the cook observed. Pete glanced at him, surprised Wish had been seeing the same thing he had been.

"Well we're his friends," Mushy protested. Wishbone glared at him and raised a pot threateningly; Mushy backed away.

"But we're his new friends, Mushy," Pete elaborated for the boy helpfully.

Favor nodded slowly as he took in what the others were saying, and it coincided with his own thoughts he'd been having. "He's starting a new job, new friends, pretty much a new life. Guess it was starting to scare him a bit. He needed Bailey to kind of say it was all right, that he was doing right. Course," Favor continued, pushing his hat back a little, "I wonder who told Bailey to tell Rowdy that and give him the horse."

"Don't look at me when it comes to the mare," Pete said when he felt Favor's eyes on him. "I just hinted to Bailey that the kid was feeling a little down and that he might need some reassurance. I didn't tell him to give Rowdy a _whole_ horse. I kinda liked seeing him ride that bronc." The others laughed.

A few minutes later, Rowdy returned to the wagon, tossing his plate away. He held his biscuit up accusingly in front of the cook's face.

"Wish, even with a new bag of flour you still can't make a decent biscuit? These are harder than rocks, and taste worse," he nagged. He turned to Pete and Mr. Favor. "Well, what are y'all waiting for? Let's get moving." He sprinted eagerly over to the remuda.

Pete grinned. "Yep, Rowdy's back to normal."

"Hallelujah," Wish grumbled.

Favor just smiled, then stretched out his back as he straightened up. "All right, let's head 'em up and move 'em out!"

* * *

Well, that's it. It's late, but it's still Tuesday by my clocks, so I'm on time! Thanks for reading, it's nothing much, but I just felt in the mood to do a quick, little family/friend story after being in the spirit of Thanksgiving and Christmas for so long (what with school starting up again, it's a little depressing). Thanks again for reading and have a great day! 


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